


Hurt

by psykhe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6903196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psykhe/pseuds/psykhe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo knows more about Kenma than he lets on. When they're separated due to university, Kuroo finds solace in an acquaintance.</p><p>Ratings/warnings subject to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Weak

**Author's Note:**

> So uh, first fic here? Constructive criticism is extremely welcomed. And if I rated anything wrong or whatnot, please let me know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma has trouble sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, first fic here? Constructive criticism is extremely welcomed. And if I rated anything wrong or whatnot, please let me know.

 

 _It hurts when you need me_  
_And I can't break your fall_  
_It hurts when you can't see_  
_And it hurts_

 

 

_I can’t breathe._

The boy clawed at his neck, trying to remove what felt like hands that were choking him. His eyes were screwed shut, trying to do something, anything that would allow him to fill his lungs with oxygen once again. He couldn’t even scream.

_No one’s going to save me._

_Nobody cares._

Tears had began to trickle down his face as he struggled, but… how could he fight what wasn’t there? A frantic whisper was heard to his right, and whatever he was laying on dipped with the added weight. Struggling to get away, the boy feared whatever monster was there in the dark beside him, doing this to him.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here, you’re safe.”

Warmth enveloped him as he felt himself get lifted off his bed and into strong arms. The hands that were leaving faint, red lines on his neck now gripping onto the other’s shirt tightly as he sobbed into it. One of the large hands moved to his head, combing through his hair slowly, caring, as the bigger male continued to speak softly into his ear.

“It’s going to be okay, I’ll protect you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Slender hands attempted to push the body that was on top of him to the ground. “Kuroo… Get off, you’re heavy,” his voice strained, but to no avail. The bleached blond continued to try to wake the other up, finally succeeding after what felt like half an hour. His breath was ragged, glaring pointedly at his best friend who was rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “There’s a reason you set up the futon, you know,” he sighed, sitting up slowly and turning to face the wall in front of him in a daze.

Dark eyes studied Kenma’s profile. He never knew when the setter was playing off his episodes in hopes that bedheaded male would do the same (which he never failed to do) or if he truly had no recollection. A mix between his trademark smirk and a smile appeared on Kuroo’s face before he lunged back onto Kenma, squeezing the poor boy into a hug and annoying the sleep-deprived teen. “Yeah, but you look like a way better pillow,” the lanky male nestled his face against the other’s neck as if to prove a point. Sadly he couldn’t hold on for much longer, seeing that Kenma’s parents knocked on the door repeatedly until they gave a response saying that they were awake.

Kuroo knew this house as if it was his own – he even treated it very similar, walking in unannounced sometimes and being welcomed with open arms. He sped through his daily routine, washing his face and brushing his teeth, as well as attempting to brush his unruly hair without success. He then quickly changed into his uniform before going back into Kenma’s room, making sure he put his belongings into his bag, save his phone, which he put in his pocket.

Now came the hard part.

Brown orbs darted towards the setter. The boy was still in the same position since Kuroo exited the room. With a sigh, the elder teen pulled Kenma up and onto his feet before dragging him into the bathroom and seating him on the now-closed toilet. Wetting Kenma’s face cloth, he helped wash any evidence of the early hours of the night – in case the boy didn’t remember. He wiped off the dried, salty tears that’s remnants stuck to his face. Finding an elastic on the counter, he paused his actions to tie up Kenma’s hair momentarily, rubbing the rest of his face and neck down before wetting the cloth once more with the coldest option, tilting the blond’s head backwards and placing the material on his eyes before prepping everything else he’d need.

It was surprising. Had anyone seen what their relationship was like, they’d probably hand off the mother role that Yaku had begrudgingly adopted to Kuroo. Honestly, he was just fussy, and would do anything for his best friend. He knew that those late night texts that woke him up (he learned to sleep with his phone on full volume unless he was with the other) meant that even though Kenma had past the point of exhaustion while gaming, he still couldn’t sleep. He didn’t even need to reply to know that Kenma would unlock the front door so that he could let himself inside the Kozume household and into Kenma’s room to help in any way that he could.

He knew that sometimes the nightmares would wake him up, leaving him reaching for help. Leaving him disoriented, having next to no recollection the next morning unless he saw his puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks and everything would flow back and overwhelm him. He knew that when that happened, Kenma would collapse on the bathroom floor, unable to breathe properly, a panic attack that Kuroo would sit through with him, doing his best to ease the pain the blond was in. He knew now that – after reading various books on anxiety and random other articles online – that he’d get rid of the evidence and that cold water would help reduce the puffiness of his friend’s eyes, enough that the other wouldn’t think much of it.

He knew that despite being observant about the world around him, Kenma never seemed to know – or care – about himself.

Every time that they went through this variation of their combined routines, Kuroo always had to bite his lip, ball his hands into a tight fist so that his nails dug into his skin. Anything, anything at all that would keep him from crying as one of the most important people in his life kept getting hurt while he had no remedy, no way to stop any of the events from happening.

But then he’d remember – Kenma was strong. _Is_ strong. He manages to go from day to day, immersing himself in his video games, playing volleyball with their little Nekoma family. He knew that if he weres in his place, he wouldn’t have lasted this long. He wouldn’t be able to do anything, just like he wasn’t able to now. He could only watch on the sidelines, no advice in tow, nothing of benefit for Kenma. He could only weakly watch as the other boy slowly breaks – because he couldn’t be a better friend. Because he couldn’t do anything worthwhile to help the person dearest to him in any way. Because he wasn’t strong, unlike what others thought.

He was _weak_.


	2. Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo busied himself so that he wouldn’t think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. Filler-ish chapter I guess.
> 
> Also, edited.

_I should've cried and spared myself some pain_

_You left me incomplete_

_All alone as the memories still remain_

 

Kuroo now shares an apartment with a hard-working brunet close to their university. While they get on each other’s nerves at times, taunting the other or just plain poking fun at one another, they manage to settle their differences when on the court. It’s a good thing, too, since they’re aiming to be starters on the university volleyball team. It would be hard on them if they didn’t connect. And as much as Kuroo doesn’t want to admit it, Oikawa does bring out the best of his abilities when on the court.

 

They hang out sometimes – not often though. Oikawa usually had girls hanging around the apartment with him, or his friend with the permanent scowl who seemed to be always yelling at the other (not that Kuroo minded, now he had names such as ‘Shittykawa’ and ‘Trashykawa’ in his vocabulary). As for Kuroo, he tended to hang out with the beautiful manager from Karasuno, or with the loud redhead and teammate known as Tendou. He figured that while Oikawa and Tendou were similar (the two seemed to want to rile people up, but then again, so did he), Tendou seemed to share traits with Bokuto and Tsukki, which was probably why he could endure him a lot more.

 

It was mid-June when things got interesting.

 

Kuroo and Kiyoko had a study date. Despite being in different majors (Kuroo was in business while the latter had chosen accounting) they had a few core classes together and usually had a good enough grasp of the other subject for them to help each other out. They couldn’t study at the former manager’s apartment – something about her roommate having a sporadic potluck ‘for the hell of it’, so they went to the male’s apartment.

 

“If my roommate’s home, sorry in advance. He’s an idiot.”

 

The question was apparent in her eyes as she looked up to him. Kuroo wondered if he should warn the girl about his womanizing roommate, but instead decided to hope that he wouldn’t be home. As he unlocked the door and opened it for her, he let out a sigh of relief – Oikawa wasn’t there. As Kiyoko set up in the living room, Kuroo went to the kitchen to prepare some tea and snacks for the both of them.

 

Quiet footsteps were heard behind him, alerting him of Kiyoko’s presence. She brought the snacks to the table, moving some books aside before returning to the kitchen. “Do you miss them?” Kuroo turned to face her, wondering what she was referring to. There was a hint of a smile on her face as she showed him a group photo that Yachi had taken of the team, both familiar and new faces present.

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

At first, Kuroo’s mind went back to his team. The practices, victories, losses… Then it went specifically to his setter. He turned away when she left the room, busying himself with the kettle and mugs as he tried to keep the unhappier memories at bay, along with the realizations. It didn’t take long before there were red crescent indents on his palms from gripping too hard. His shoulders visibly shake and he’s glad that Kiyoko had returned to the living room. His breath comes out slightly heavier as he furiously blinks back tears.

 

The thoughts are resurfacing.

 

It had been worse when he initially moved out. He would have mental arguments with himself about his best friend. How he was abandoning him, now that they weren’t together. That Kenma was alone now and it was his entire fault. Sure, Kenma had the team, but did they know as much as Kuroo did? Did they embrace him like he would whenever he got a panic attack; hold his hand throughout the anxiety? Had they experienced his nightmares so bad that left him crying? He felt so useless now that he was away from the setter. He wanted to help, but the distance made it difficult. Their daily texting was dwindling and it made him anxious.

 

It was the kettle whistling that wavered his attention. Rubbing at his eyes, he quickly got the tea ready and switched the kettle of before joining Kiyoko, drinks in hand. To lighten the mood (more for his sake than hers), Kuroo couldn’t help but tease, “man, if Taketora knew I had ‘Karasuno’s beauty’ in my apartment, he’d probably cry.” Kiyoko paused from her reading to give him a pointed look, causing the middle blocker to chuckle. “Or give me some death look cause he’s jealous, whichever,” the teen continued before setting the drinks on the table and joining Kiyoko to sit on the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

“You! Wh-why are you here, with her?”

 

It sounded more of an accusation rather than a question. “Hm?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow before looking at the girl beside him. “Kiyoko, d’you know Trashykawa or something?” She only gave a curt nod going back to her cell, excusing herself to the nearest washroom so she could finish her phone call in peace.

 

Oikawa, on the other hand, looked at Kuroo in disbelief before glaring. This only caused the latter to smile smugly, even though he wasn’t quite sure of what the situation was.

 

“What, it’s did she reject you?” The look that Oikawa gave him told it all. “And here I thought you got all the girls. Looks like the prettiest ones know better.”

 

The setter scoffed, trying to hide his frustration. “It’s not like I’m bothered by it, not at all. Not even a little.”

 

Kuroo figured that she just blew him off whenever he tried to pick her up. Hell, he even imagined it, causing him to laugh in Oikawa’s face as the brunet turned red. “Right, keep telling yourself that,” Kuroo snorted, while Oikawa flipped him the bird. It seemed like he was about to retort but a loud yelling throughout the halls made him turn his head to see who was causing the commotion. Soon, a blur of red hair almost tackled Kuroo to the ground.

 

“Wakatoshi said he can stay for the weekend! It’s still cool if he can crash at yours yeah?”

 

“Hell yeah,” he had already talked it over to Oikawa that he might potentially have someone stay the weekend and the other didn’t mind, though the forced smile the brunet gave him at that very moment screamed otherwise.

 

“Tetsu-chan,” Kuroo’s trademark smirk faltered for a second. Oikawa only used that nickname for him if he was really pissed. “The _fuck_ do you mean that _Ushiwaka-chan_ is sleeping over?”

 

* * *

 

 

The constant glares had diminished a couple days after Ushijima had left. The sickly sweet tone of voice that put Kuroo on edge that Oikawa seemed keen on using on him constantly had finally stopped once he pleaded Iwaizumi to use whatever powers he had on the brunet to get him to stop. Granted, when he returned home that night, the setter was pouting, looking rather dejected. Though Oikawa continued to annoy him by bringing a different girl home now and again, which Kuroo could only groan at. Luckily due to his odd way of sleeping, the pillows against his ears helped drown out any potential _noise_.

 

Usually, he took no interest in the girls Oikawa brought home. Sure, some were pretty, but if they associated with the trash king, they weren’t worth the effort.

 

“You’re just jealous,” his roommate would tease.

 

“At least I’m not trying to prove I’m straight when _I’m so in love with Iwa-chan,_ ” he mocked, his voice getting more nasally as he tried to imitate Oikawa. “ _Oh Iwa-chan, so manly, what I wouldn’t give to have your dick in my-_ “ He was shut up with a pillow being thrown at his face.

 

It wasn’t like Kuroo didn’t get any action. There was one of the parties at the beginning of the semester that had gotten him plastered and waking in a bed naked with an exchange student to his side. Then there were the times him and Tendou hung out, and after a couple of beers in they usually ended up making out or getting each other off, sometimes laughing at each others’ breathy moans or cum faces, sometimes making it a competition. It wasn’t like they were romantically attracted or anything, just friends with occasional benefits. Then there was Misaki, a cute, somewhat quiet girl in his class that he ended up ‘helping.’ Or at least that’s what she called it. Seemed like she didn’t want to seem like a virgin with her friends.

 

“Anyways, tell your Kiyoko-chan that I’m so over her, I have a real beauty coming tonight. Foreign, even,” Oikawa announced, and Kuroo couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Apparently Kiyoko really did bruise his ego. Throwing the pillow back to Oikawa, he switched the channel until a volleyball match came on. It caught both their attention and their bantering ended at that.

 

A couple hours passed watched and did menial tasks around their apartment, often bumping into each other purposely and sneering, the doorbell rang. Oikawa threw the broom in Kuroo’s direction – who swore at the brunet – running to get the door as Kuroo put everything away. He was about to go to his room and get his phone when Oikawa yelled out his name, no doubt trying to irk him with his constant female company.

 

“Oh! Kuroo-san, it’s been so long!” Arms were wrapped around his neck as the girl hugged him before he could process who she was. It didn’t matter just yet – he caught Oikawa’s seething face and he basked in it. When their hug was over, he then realized who the beautiful woman was. Well, small world.

 

“Alisa! How’s it going? You at university nearby?”

 

Turns out that she was actually studying fashion from some of the designers whose studios were nearby as well as modelling. It made sense as to how she knew his roommate; Oikawa had quite a few modelling gigs too. As they immersed themselves in their conversation, they hadn’t even noticed the brunet try (and fail) to get any words in, as well as give up and retreat to his room. They also didn’t notice how late it had gotten, and before she had realized, Alisa missed the last train. “Oh no,” her eyes grew wide as she panicked, looking at her phone, “my train..! I was supposed to be home for dinner with Lyovochka!” Her flailing arms as she got her phone out of her purse reminded him of Lev.

 

“You could sleep over if ya want, I don’t mind helping a ya out.”

 

* * *

 

 

They kiss for the first time when she runs to his apartment, a portfolio in her hand as she excitedly shows him the photos of her from her latest shoot. It was so casual; it almost didn’t even register – Alisa going back to explaining the amazing people she worked with until her throat ran suddenly dry.

 

And then it hit them.

 

They both flushed an impossible shade of red as Kuroo sputtered out an apology. “I-I mean, you looked so happy and then-and then I dunno, I just really wanted to kiss you,” he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly finding the wall very interesting as he avoided eye contact. He did not expect there to be hands on each of his cheeks, nor did he expect his lips finding hers once again in an innocent and chaste kiss. A noise of confusion left him, still blushing as Alisa gave him a big smile.

 

“You’re so cute, Kuroo-sa-“

 

“ _D’youwannagonadatewithme?_ ”

 

Alisa looked at him, confused, before the rushed question finally registered. “O-oh,” was all she managed, eyes wide and innocent as Kuroo expected the worst. Instead, she just nodded quickly a grin breaking out on her face once more as she laughed off the awkwardness. His smirk of a smile was back on his face, as if he wasn’t still blushing and that this was all going according to some plan he never thought of. “I’d love to, Kuroo-san,” she confirmed, eyes shining.

 

“Sweet!”

 

He might have been just as excited.

 

He might have also fist-pumped, something he had to tell Bokuto.


End file.
